


Night and Day

by panphillie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, god AU, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panphillie/pseuds/panphillie
Summary: Phil is tiring of being the god of the Night, so he visits Earth and finds a surprise waiting for him that leads him into a dangerous position.





	1. Chapter 1

Phil Lester sat under a tree in his expansive garden, drinking coffee out of an ornate mug which reflected its shine onto the grass, already dappled from the leaves of the tree. The warm summer breeze drifted across the garden, rustling Phil’s hair as he closed his eyes and relished in his comfort. His extravagant home towered behind him, furnished with lavish furniture and imported decorations. But, if he was being honest with himself, he felt an emptiness from being in such a place, which is why he now found himself watching a brooke lazily wind its way through his garden, watching the grass and leaves move with the wind, watching the clouds.  


And he was so terribly alone. Being a god is a lonely life, especially when one is the god of the moon and it’s summer. His power was weakened during the day, not to mention he couldn’t do anything. Sure, there were days when he made an appearance in the clear blue sky, or show up a few hours early, but he couldn’t do that all the time. There’s rules to these things, after all. Phil had been gifted godhood as the Lord of Night centuries ago, after doing some heroic feat he could barely remember. All he could recall was that, since the evil he fought had killed the previous Night deity, he was chosen to take their place. Ever since, he had shown at night, watching over the Earth, watching humanity change dramatically from when he had been one of them.  


When he became a god, he had been feared. Before humans had electric lights, or automobiles, or trains, or telephones, they shut their doors and feared him, feared the Night. They became rowdy when the moon was full, they committed their darkest secrets while he watched the Earth. Now, with electricity nearly everywhere, humans treated the Night like he was no different from Day. Sure, they still held an innate fear of darkness, but humans slept less now, they went out, they went on trips, they saw movies. They were interesting to watch, but Phil had to admit he missed having that effect on humans, that shift when the Sun began to leave and he showed himself.  


In all his years as the Moon, as the Night, he had only met the Sun once, when he had first been made a god. The Sun was an old, old deity. They had white hair that seemed to (and probably did) shine at all times. They were almost too bright to look at, and tall enough to intimidate even Phil. In the few conversations Phil had with the Sun, they had been kind and, well, warm. They had helped Phil through his transition to godhood and in getting used to his position. His light really did come from reflected sunlight. The other gods, however, tended to get on Phil’s nerves too much for him to socialize with them. They were entitled and somewhat arrogant, which Phil assumed was what happened when you were worshipped for a couple millenia. No matter what form any of these gods took before humans, nearly all humans had worshipped them: the sea, the mountains, luck, fertility, and, of course, Night and Day.  


Phil supposed he should socialize more, but going to council meetings made him want to jump into a volcano, but the goddess of volcanoes wasn’t very pleasant either. So, he stayed reclusive in his home on the gods’ plane, drinking coffee under his umbrella tree, watching the brooke, listening to the rustle of the leaves, and thinking, always thinking.  


Phil took the last sip of his coffee, and the cup vanished as soon as he took it from his lips. He stood. His time would be coming soon, and he should prepare. He went inside his mansion and traversed the many passageways to his main chamber. He looked at himself in the mirror. His pitch black hair was in a smooth quiff, with only the slightest hints of silver showing themselves by his ears. His skin was pale white, and he swore it had gotten paler since taking the godhood. The only very obvious change from becoming a god was that his irises were paper-white, only differentiated from his sclera by a black outline and the shades of grey within his iris. He wore a casual outfit: a long-sleeved shirt, the top third of which was white, while the bottom two-thirds was black, slim black jeans, and black-and-white oxford shoes. He sighed, snapped, and his work outfit appeared on his body.  


The outfit he wore to go about his godly duties was a fine one. He wore a black tailcoat that showed the color of the sky. It currently was blue towards his shoulders and lilac-orange towards his hips. He wore a midnight black collared shirt under his coat, tucked into a similarly colored pair of slacks. He wore his black and white leather oxfords on his feet, spotless white gloves on his hands, and to top it all off, a pair of dark rounded square sunglasses to hide his eyes. He grinned at himself. He looked like a mafia boss from a human crime drama.  


He set off. He went to his garden, looked up at the darkening sky, and suddenly found himself looking down on the Earth. The sensation of teleporting like this had taken a while to get used to, but now he quite enjoyed the electric feeling in his stomach, the moment of dizziness, and the very abrupt stillness after.  


He watched the Earth on her slow rotation, staring at the lights that dotted her surface more than the stars around Phil. Tonight, he decided to make a trip. He focused on a single city, brighter than the rest, and felt the electric sensation again. In less than a second, he found himself on the roof of a seven-story building in one of the brightest cities he’d ever seen. In the distance he saw a ferris wheel and skyscrapers which exemplified human egotism. Surely they didn’t think those could _last _, right? One skyscraper was shaped somewhat like a bullet, another like a strange triangle. Phil had found himself in the middle of London.  
__

__

__By now he was barely visible, as his tailcoat had darkened to a deep shade of black, peppered lightly by stars. He made his way down from the building and decided he would see what humans were up to nowadays. If humanity was in any way the same as the last time he was here, the place where he could find people to talk to would be a pub. He made his way to what had been his favorite pub when he’d last been here, and to his surprise, it still stood. There wasn’t too many people in there, so he made his way in. He sat at the bar and ordered a fruity drink, earning a judging glance from the two men next to him. Had he been human, that judgement would have bothered him a lot, but he just stared the men down and they looked away.  
_ _

__

__He sipped his drink and scanned the pub for someone to talk to. Man with a full beard and a stained shirt? No, not ideal. Woman with blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun? No, she’s busy. Man with curly brown hair, sitting on his laptop? No, he seemed busy, too. Finally, Phil looked around once more and met eyes with a woman with wavy black hair and rings on her fingers, which were wrapped around a beer bottle. But what drew Phil’s attention was not her appearance or her drink choice. It was that she seemed to be staring into his soul, almost beckoning him over, her dark brown eyes harsh. Her expression made his stomach drop, but he found himself making his way across the pub to her. He sat across from her, finding the wooden chair uncomfortable. One of the legs was shorter than the others, and the table was slightly sticky.  
_ _

__

__He just stared at her. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her eyes that set him on edge so much, but mystified him as well.  
_ _

__

__“You know, if you want people to think you’re human, it’s a good idea to dress like you’re from this century,” she said abruptly.  
_ _

__

__Phil was taken aback. “I have no idea what you might be implying. I simply came here for a--”  
_ _

____

“Yeah, your tailcoat that seems to absorb light sure lets everyone know you just came for a pint.”  


“Listen, _mum _,” he emphasized, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I promise you have no idea who I am.”  
__

__

__“You’re not the god of the Night, then?”  
_ _

“How do you--”  


“I summoned you, dumbass.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has a worrisome conversation with a human after being unexpectedly summoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to try to update this once a week or so! thanks for reading :D

Phil was floored by her brashness. No human had ever treated him this way, especially when they knew who he was. Most humans grovelled or fled, and if he was being honest, he would normally curse a human for behavior like this. But he was intrigued. Not to mention, he’d never been summoned before. Most humans into the Arts tried summoning spirits or more major deities, not him. He certainly didn’t realize being summoned would come in the form of him being unknowingly led to a London pub he happened to like. That’s the kind of thing he wished he’d gotten a tutorial on. 

“Why did you summon me?”

“Well, at first I was just trying to see if it would work. So I summoned a minor spirit. Then, I tried you. I felt like you had a connection to this place, so I went here and did the ritual in the loo. Don’t worry though, I cleaned it up.”

“You did the Black Arts in a  _ pub bathroom _ ? You summoned  _ me _ , the deity of the Night, the spirit of the Moon, in a  _ loo? _ ” Phil was struggling to keep his voice under control. “I have never heard something so disrespectful, so outrageous, I should curse your lineage, your soul, your—”

“Listen, I did call you here for a reason, do you want to know it or not?”  
Phil seriously pondered turning this woman into a garden snake. Then, he decided he might listen to what she had to say, _then_ turn her into a garden snake. “Fine. Why did you summon me?”

“I’m not normally into the summoning Arts, but I do other things more often. Like divination. It’s somewhat of a… skill of mine. And about a week ago, I was reading the tarot, and I read something concerning.”

“And that was?” Phil was getting bored of this conversation, fast. He had a sneaking suspicion that this human was playing some sort of game with him, trying to trick him into a deal. That’s what humans  _ do _ , anyway. But something in the back of his mind told him to keep listening. 

“The tarot reading gave me the message that there’s a dark force coming. Something unlike anything that’s been seen in centuries. I turned to a dream spell to gather more details, but it was muddled, almost like someone was stopping me.”

Phil was suddenly trying very hard to act like he wasn’t shaken by what she was saying. “Well, did you find anything actually  _ useful _ in your divination search, or are you just here to tell me vague prophecies?”

The woman looked stung by his words, but she kept going. “I caught glimpses in my dreams of what’s coming. There was that dark, evil force, so dark I couldn’t see its true form… and there was you.”

Phil, who had been breathing out of habit more than necessity for half a millenia, forgot to breathe. “ _ Me _ ? What’s this got to do with me?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I saw you, and that—thing—whatever it was, and I saw someone else. But they weren’t a part of the rest of it, they were separated, but I got the sense they were a key part of whatever’s about to go down. Something told me they were in a lot of danger.”

“Who were they? You knew who I was, surely you recognized them.”

“I believe it was the Sun. And something terrible is about to happen to them.”

Phil stood abruptly, skidding his chair loudly across the floor, making the witch jump. His heart rate was going a million miles an hour. He didn’t know why the human’s unsubstantiated claims had made him so on edge, but he knew he needed to leave. Now. He turned and left, pacing quickly out of the pub. He needed to think. Alone. Without witches putting thoughts of dark prophecies in his mind. 

Someone grabbed his sleeve and he was jumpy enough that he almost turned them into a naked mole rat. He turned, and it was the woman. “What more do you want from me?”

“What will you do?”

“Well I reckon I’m going home, mum, as I still need to watch over the Night, yeah?”

“About the darkness approaching! Please tell me you can do something.”

Phil hesitated his snarky retort. Her tone was pleading, but what caught him was how  _ scared _ she sounded. Up until this point, she’d come off as confident, put together, almost petty in her conversation. But now that he was paying attention, he sensed a deep fear in her, rooted in the fact that she genuinely believed all she had said tonight, and that she had said it to help Phil, not to extort him. She was different from the humans he remembered. His expression softened, and he put his hand on her shoulder. 

“I’ll talk to Day,” he said. Then, he said something that surprised even him. “If you hear anything else or need help, summon me again, yeah?”

She nodded. “Go on, then. Do your godly thing.”

Phil looked up at the space rock he represented and focused on being there. Then he was. He looked back down at Earth, seeing just barely the beginning of the Sun coming across the horizon. Now that he was back in his godly place, looking at the entire globe, his conversation seemed so insignificant. He returned to monitoring the Night, as he did every, well, night. He figured he could talk to Day tomorrow evening, before he starts his shift. Besides, he hadn’t talked to any of the other gods in decades, it would be weird to show up and say some random human’s prophecy scared you, right? 

He watched the Sun creep across the horizon and thought about his manor on the godly plane. Teleporting between planes always felt different, like every atom in his body was buzzing with energy moving around. As he handed off his duties to the Sun, he found himself back in his home, staring in the mirror, watching as his tailcoat turned from a deep black to a pale turquoise. He clapped, and he was wearing a much more comfortable outfit of grey joggers and a red T-shirt with white stripes on the shoulders. He had to admit, he did like current human fashion. He just  _ also _ liked tailcoats. 

He spent the day the same way he had spent many of his days the last few centuries: sitting on his comfortable bench, watching the brooke outside his house babble past, sipping coffee in a decorated teacup. However, today was different.

Phil couldn’t stop thinking about what the human said. Her words felt so distant to him, yet they rang a note of truth within him. He didn’t know if it was intuition or godly powers which told him that something was indeed about to happen, but either way, he was restless. He kept glancing away from the brooke, up to the sky, looking behind his back, like someone was watching him. He half expected to see some dark cloud of evil on the horizon, starting whatever dark prophecy the witch had spoken about.

But there was nothing. It was all the same. The only sounds were the rustling leaves in the wind, the brooke running past, and the soft  _ ssh _ sound Phil’s bouncing leg made when it brushed against the bench. 

He stood anxiously and paced, thinking. If what the woman said was right, something terrible was going to happen soon. But what? And how could he stop it if he didn’t know what it even was? All he had to go on was the human’s dream: he was involved, and the evil thing, and the Sun. So he could talk to the Sun. But if it’s something yet to come, how would even the Day know? Phil paced faster. How do you stop something that hasn’t even happened yet? 

Phil thought about the last time he had visited the Day. They had concluded his lessons on godhood, and Phil was very grateful. He was so young back then, barely 32. The Sun had been a parental figure to Phil after he had lost them all. Not that deities could have families; Phil just happened to be one of the lucky ones whose family had died before he had to be forced apart from them. 

On his final day under the Day’s instruction, he had knelt in front of their throne.

“Thank you,” Phil had said.

“I should be thanking  _ you _ , little one,” said the deity of the Sun.

Phil looked up, trying to focus his eyes on the bright figure. “Why is that?”

“You have reminded me what it’s like to  _ care _ . What it’s like to be human, to have emotions such as love again.”

Phil was silent. He swallowed hard, trying not to let his emotion show. 

“You are like a son to me, and yet you must move on. You’re now the Lord of the Night, Deity of the Moon, Protector to Those in Darkness. But even with all those fancy titles, you’ll come visit me, won’t you?” They were standing above Phil now, and Phil stood.

“Of course,” his voice betrayed his sadness. 

Phil remembered so vividly the bright golden-white throne room, the relatively humble manor surrounding it, and the fields of sunflowers, daisies, and other beautiful foliage both in and around the manor. 

“You decided to visit! It’s been so long, my son.”

Phil was snapped out of his reverie and looked around him. A moment ago, he had been in his garden, but now he was in a very familiar chamber of gold and white, with a person who radiated happiness beaming in his direction.


End file.
